Body Parts R Us
by Red Witch
Summary: Krieger hates to let a good corpse go to waste.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has been sold. Or any Sea Lab characters. Some more madness that came through my tiny little mind.**

 **Body Parts R Us **

_God I hate coming down here_ , Ray thought to himself as he entered Krieger's lab. _Why did I ever agree to these stupid maintenance checks? I think they're only excuses for Krieger to feel me up._

 _Not that that's a bad thing. I just wish I didn't have to go to his lab to do it._

 _God only knows what I'll find down here._

"Uh oh…" Dr. Vlad Virjay bumped into Ray. He was wearing a black trench coat. "Hello…"

"Uh, hello…" Ray blinked. "Who are you?"

"Nobody!" Dr. Virjay said quickly. "Nobody! I didn't say anybody was down here! Nobody down here! What are **you** doing down here?"

"I **work** here," Ray said calmly. "Well upstairs. In the detective agency."

"DETECTIVE AGENCY?" Dr. Virjay yelled.

"Chill V," Krieger walked over to them. "He's cool."

"You didn't tell me you worked for a detective agency now!" Dr. Virjay snapped.

"Relax," Krieger waved. "It's pretty much the same as what we did before. Only we have a better office."

"Well you could have warned me at least!" Dr. Virjay remarked.

"Dude I told you to go out the back if you didn't want to be seen," Krieger said.

"I didn't want to reinforce a stereotype," Dr. Virjay explained.

"V, I'd get that sample you bought to a refrigerated unit fast if I were you," Krieger reminded.

"Okay! Right," Dr. Virjay remembered "Goodbye person who I don't know and Krieger who I don't know and definitely didn't buy anything illegal from!" He ran out the door.

"Who the hell was **that?** " Ray asked.

"Just a friend of mine," Krieger said. "You know I should have introduced you two. You have a lot in common."

"Do I even **want** to know what you were doing?" Ray groaned.

"It's not that bad," Krieger waved. "Just a little black market stem cell business I run from time to time."

"You're selling **stem cells**?" Ray was stunned.

"Why not? There's a legitimate scientific market for it," Krieger shrugged. "Is it **my fault** the government is dragging their heels on research that could save **millions of lives**? Is it unethical that I'm using my own body to contribute to that research?"

"Or copies of your body," Ray gave him a look.

"Only the dead ones," Krieger waved. "I hate letting a good corpse go to waste."

"I always wondered how you fund your projects," Ray said.

"And it's not like I'm tainting my product with mouse cells like those other guys do!" Krieger said. "My vials are filled with 95 percent human DNA!"

"95 percent?" Ray did a double take.

"Well there's a few pig DNA that got mixed in with a strain or two," Krieger admitted. "But I put that on the label. Those actually sell pretty well. You'd be surprised. Not as much as the all human ones that go for five thousand dollars a vial."

" _Five thousand dollars_? For just that tiny little vial?" Ray gasped. "Krieger exactly how do you harvest stem cells? Just curious."

"Blood samples or bone marrow samples," Krieger said.

"Uh…" Ray began.

"I'll give you ten grand on first down payment for five vials of your blood," Krieger said. "And fifty percent of profits of your sales."

"Hook me up," Ray rolled up his non bionic sleeve.

"Goody! Because I could use a fresh donor or two," Krieger got some equipment to take blood. "Spice up the old inventory."

"If I didn't need the cash so badly," Ray sighed as Krieger took some blood. "Our paychecks are even worse than when we were a spy agency!"

"Yeah I always thought Ms. Archer's paychecks were shit but Cyril's worse," Krieger agreed as he finished.

"It's getting so I have to steal food from bars and hotels to survive," Ray groaned. "I really should have finished Bartending School. At least with that I'd be able to work for tips!"

"Preaching to the choir. When I think of all the money I wasted throwing body parts in dumpsters or sewers," Krieger clucked his head. "Thank god I wised up years ago!"

"You already sold some of my body parts didn't you?" Ray barked.

"Twenty grand for your right femur," Krieger admitted. "What? You weren't using it anymore!"

"You sold my own bones for medical experiments?" Ray barked.

"Technically I sold the marrow in your old bones for medical experiments," Krieger said.

"Dear God…" Ray groaned.

"You should have seen how much I got selling parts of Brett," Krieger said as he finished and put a small band aid on Ray's arm.

"I don't even want to know…" Ray groaned. "I am so angry and morally outraged…"

"Too morally outraged to get the twenty-five grand I owe you?" Krieger asked.

"On top of the ten grand you **already** owe me?" Ray looked at him.

"Uh…." Krieger gulped.

"Thirty-five grand covers a lot of moral outrage," Ray gave him a look. "And forty grand covers it a lot more!"

"Geeze, next time I'll stick to dead guys," Krieger groaned. "Fine forty! Will you take a check?"

"Will you take a robotic black hand to the sternum?" Ray glared.

"I'll go open my safe," Krieger gulped as he went to get the money.

Ray looked at the wall casually. He saw bins labeled. EYE OF NEWT. EYE OF THE TIGER. RED ROBOT EYES. ROBOT HANDS (BLACK). ROBOT FEET (ASSORTED). HAPPY FEET. ROBOT PIG SNOUTS. METAL PELVISES. METAL ELVIS PELVISES. BIONIC SPLEEN. BIONIC PARTS (ASSORTED ALL COLORS). MULATTO BUTTS. TEUTONIC BUTTS. JUST A BUNCH MORE BUTTS.

"What is this? Body Parts R Us?" Ray barked.

"No, someone already has that name," Krieger called back. "The black market is getting more and more corporate every year!"

"What's going more and more corporate every year?" Archer asked as he walked in. "Please tell me you don't mean breakfast burrito joints because now that the coffee houses and the donut places have fallen, they are our last bastion of freedom."

"The black market," Ray explained.

"Did you just give blood?" Archer did a double take. "And does your blood have motor oil in it? Because you're a cyborg?"

"In order, yes and no Archer," Ray sighed. "I can't believe I've actually been reduced to selling my blood and stem cells used in medical experiments for cash."

"I can't believe it took you **this long** to realize you could get paid for it," Archer pointed out. "You realize you've been Krieger's guinea pig for free for a while now right?"

"Don't rub it in," Krieger grumbled as he walked out with some money. "I'm already out forty grand!"

"Really?" Archer perked up. "Okay I'm in on this too. Might as well open a vein anywhere. You can hit gold."

"They go for five grand a vial so half…" Krieger explained as he gave Ray the money.

"Still good," Archer said. "I have a college tuition to start paying for."

"Did you finally read an article in the newspaper about how expensive college is?" Ray asked as Krieger took some blood from Archer.

"Doonesbury cartoon actually," Archer shrugged. "Then I saw some articles online. It's…not good people."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and AJ won't have good grades?" Krieger suggested.

"Nah. Don't tell Lana I said this but AJ got her brains. Because I will deny it," Archer warned. "And then pull your intestines through your nostrils."

"Ewww…" Ray winced. "My lips are sealed."

"She can already count up to twelve," Archer said. "Well twelve bottles of scotch anyway."

"Oh the benefits of having a father that's an alcoholic," Ray drawled.

"Shut up! OW!" Archer winced. "Krieger! What are you Dracula's intern or something?"

"Awww," Krieger mocked as he finished. "Is the big bad spy turned detective afraid of a little itty bitty needle?"

"Itty bitty?" Archer barked. "Krieger that thing is huge!"

"Trust me," Ray groaned. "That's **not** the big one."

"You would know," Archer remarked.

"I'll get you your two thousand five hundred grand from the back," Krieger said.

"How come you gave Ray forty?" Archer protested. "What? Did he find out you sold his old leg bones without his consent?"

Ray gave him a dirty look. "Seriously?" Archer was stunned. "That was just a shot in the dark."

"Remind me to do the same for you sometime," Ray grumbled. "It's embarrassing enough that I sold blood so I can eat this week."

"It's not that big a deal," Archer shrugged. "To get some extra spending money I sold my sperm a few times while I was in college. Before I was kicked out."

"Of the college or the sperm bank?" Krieger asked.

"Both actually," Archer said. "Never hit on a receptionist while you're trying to give a sample."

"Seriously?" Ray asked. "About you selling your sperm? How many times?"

"I dunno," Archer frowned. "Five or six times? Maybe seven or eight?"

"Maybe five to eight **times**?" Ray shouted.

"Well I was pretty drunk a couple of times so…" Archer waved. "But I sold my sperm. And I assume it was for research. I mean I am a pretty impressive specimen."

"Unbelievable," Ray blinked.

"I put it under the name Randy Randerson," Archer added. "Like I said I got paid pretty well for research. Maybe it was ten or eleven? Maybe twelve? I know I did it at least a couple times a semester."

"How long ago was **this?** " Ray asked.

"I dunno," Archer shrugged. "I was in college so maybe…Twenty? Twenty-two years ago? Something like that."

"Uh oh…" Krieger blinked. "Oh boy…"

"Suddenly the dating scene just got a whole lot scarier," Ray groaned.

"What do you mean?" Archer asked.

"I'm not going to tell him," Ray looked at Krieger. "You tell him."

"I'm **not** telling him!" Krieger protested. "You tell him!"

"Tell me what?" Archer snapped.

"If he can't figure it out, I am not telling him!" Ray protested.

"Well somebody has to tell him!" Krieger protested.

"Well don't look at me!" Ray snapped. "You're the medical professional!"

"Technically I'm not a doctor of any kind," Krieger said. "You should tell him."

"No, **you** tell him!" Ray pointed out.

"Just **one** of you tell me!" Archer snapped. "Come on! What?"

"Let's just say it might not be a bad idea if your tastes run towards older women in the future," Ray winced. "As to avoid any…incidents."

"What kind of incidents?" Archer asked.

"Oh come on Archer!" Krieger snapped. "You sold your sperm to a sperm bank more than once! Even you can connect the dots here!"

"What are you saying….?" Archer did a double take. "You think they might have sold my sperm so that some woman would….?"

"That is usually what sperm banks are used for," Ray gave him a look.

"Oh," Archer blinked. "I see what you mean yeah…"

"So there is a high probability that AJ is not an only child," Krieger added. "Oh wait, I forgot about the wee baby Seamus. Oh wait, he's technically not a baby anymore is he?"

"I'm amazed only two have been proven," Ray spoke up. "The way Archer has carried on I would have suspected a herd of bastards by now!"

"A condom is only 99 percent effective," Krieger spoke up. "No way Archer could have beaten those odds."

"Well I usually don't wear a condom or practice any birth control so…" Archer shrugged. "Wait do candy bar wrappers count?"

"Okay so the odds are a lot higher," Krieger groaned. "By five hundred thousand percent!"

"Great just what the world needs," Ray groaned. "A whole bunch of Archers running around."

"Or worse," Krieger groaned.

"What do you mean worse?" Ray barked. "What could be worse than another Archer?"

Somewhere back East…

"WHO DO YOU HAVE TO MURDER AROUND HERE TO GET SOME DAMN ICE?" A twenty something black haired young woman who looked a lot like a young Mallory shouted in a fancy restaurant.

"Melody Silver Arliss…" An older woman who sat next to her winced.

"Mother I am twenty-one and if I want a drink with ice in it I will **get it!"** Melody snapped. "Or do I have to chop it like a field hand?"

"I'm thinking of suing the sperm donor bank I got you from," Melody's Mother sighed. "I'm starting to suspect the sperm I got to conceive you was defective."

"Like it was my fault your first husband was shooting blanks?" Melody asked.

"Melody that man was your father!" Melody's Mother gasped. "Until he left us for a younger woman."

"Irish whore," Melody growled.

"Melody…" Melody's Mother began. Melody got her drink and started drinking while holding up her finger.

"I will never understand where you got **that** from," Melody's Mother groaned. "That and your weird obsession with lacrosse."


End file.
